Size Doesn't Matter
by TurtleFriedRice
Summary: It didn't matter what he now lacked, so long as they both could start moving forward. Angst. Zosan/Sanzo. Occasionally will have drabble updates.
1. Chapter 1

It was all fun and games. Hell, that's what it was supposed to be. It was an intimate night in an affectionate setting like several others they'd had before, except of course, they couldn't have expected this to happen. Granted, their special nights together weren't exactly the definition of a standard sex night, but they'd never done something too risky.

Fuck, risks weren't even a thought that crossed their minds. Together, they felt unstoppable and only shared the goal of making each other feel desired and worshipped, like they were the most important things to one another, which was undoubtedly true. Unfortunately, however, reality was a lot crueler to them and preyed on their obliviousness. It took the one thing they could do for one another wholeheartedly and made it into nothing less than a nightmare.

At least, that's what Sanji thought of it as. It was the one thing he could even dare to think, the situation so unrealistic to his definition of normal. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for this, no book out there could ease the unsettled flame burning inside his gut about this whole situation. No words could distress the jumbled thoughts and emotions flaring in his mind. Sure, Zoro wasn't dead, but how exactly was he supposed to deal with this? What could Sanji even say?

It had just been a cock ring. A toy they'd used time and time before without any complaints – only ever ending in a euphoric high of white that flashed before their eyes after an orgasmic night of sex again and again. This had been his fault, hadn't it? He just had to be selfish and want a night of his own to be in charge. Sure, he put on his most intimidating face and a sinister grin, but only in foreplay to get his Marimo in the mood, never really with hurtful intent. Yet here he was, next to a hospital bed.

His knobby knuckles lightened and he squeezed his jacket that lay across his lap, conveniently and unconsciously covering his groin, almost protectively. If he had just stopped a few moments earlier when Zoro's expression had changed or if he hadn't taken so long and force Zoro to experience that. It was eating Sanji up alive and he didn't know what to do or even say. Sanji's eyes just scanned the outline of the body snug under white blankets.

Zoro was alive. It seemed like every few moments his mind would allow him to remember that important fact. He was still there, he hadn't lost him forever -pending his overall reaction-, and although the situation took a turn for the bad it could have been so much worse. But the blond couldn't get over the basic fact of the matter and the reality that Zoro might not feel the same. Sanji couldn't even guarantee that if he had been in the same situation he wouldn't feel like that, like although living a big part of who made him, him, was gone.

But that was the work Sanji had ahead of him. He had to make Zoro see that although it most likely definitely felt like it, it was not the end of the world. That wasn't his life, even if at some points it felt like it was, nor was it the reason this cook loved him endearingly enough to wear the band on his ring finger.

Sanji's body stilled when he noticed the shift of movement on the bed and the green hair his eye's had rested on with trained interest shifted and the man of his latest concerns sat up right in the bed. He winced once, when he tried to move himself, but quickly opted not to as his body was evidently sore even through the pain killers surging into his arm. Next those almond and precise eyes, which Sanji had learned to usually love being on the receiving end of such stern and aggravation, shifted over and met his. Only this time there was something different clouding them. Zoro was a proud man, but even he wasn't invincible to hurt.

"You're up?" Sanji choked out. It was humiliating really, but anxiety aside he was exceedingly concerned. Even so, it was a stupid question to break the ice with.

He could hear Zoro maintaining his composure and his breath from here, his chin angling downward as he glanced off to the side. It took him a moment, but he nodded, muttering coherently under his breath.

"I've been." The swordsmen curled his thumb under the blanket, fiddling with it to shift his attention. "Been meditating since before you came in."

As if the situation wasn't awkward enough, the attempt at casual conversation made the air bitter, a burning sensation in Sanji's mouth that reminded him this just wasn't right. Things probably wouldn't be the same for a long while, yet here was the victim himself trying to maintain his usual demeanor. He'd been meditating? Even now, the bastard was trying so hard to stay in line with himself and handle this like any other problem. Before, the cook wouldn't have hesitated to kick him for even trying.

There was nothing weak about it, it didn't need to be dealt with and put aside. If he knew anything from the constant trash TV he'd viewed, he knew dealing with things head on and letting out emotions like anger and anguish were the better options. Unfortunately, this was still Zoro he was dealing with, he set his own rules and standards to be applied to. Even now.

There was an awkward silence and Sanji was beginning to regret just answering his statement with a nod. But what more was there to say? He felt so absolutely useless apart from the part of him that just wanted to punch himself in the face for what had happened. He'd apologize a million times over and over, but Zoro wouldn't have it, he was already sick of the word off the cook's lips and he'd made it clear on more than one occasion he valued the phrase 'actions speak louder than words'. Sanji should instead try and follow any lead given to him instead of begging for any forgiveness.

But that didn't mean he wasn't apologetic about it. His lips were so numb from pressing together as he tried not to. He needed to be strong, like Zoro was being. It was admirable, even if short lived. Sanji never had the opportunity to watch the marimo mourn or deal with grief, he wasn't sure what to expect. Finally, his eyes peeled themselves off the tile floor and back to Zoro, who might have been a few shades paler than before.

The swordsman always had been quicker than him. Before the cook could open his mouth and sprout the things dying to escape, Zoro beat him to it, slouching slightly into himself.

"They said the surgery went fine, I'll be alright," he explained, his voice a bit more raspy than it had been before, something unusual but not unfamiliar when he had to talk so seriously about things personal to himself. Still, he continued to mess with the blanket around him determinedly, as if doing so he could hide the part of himself he didn't want to acknowledge had been taken from him. "Everything will be different… But I'll be fine. It won't be the same, but the general principles and everything working down there…"

It was like he was parroting the words any doctor told him moments before and it squeezed at Sanji's chest. He supposed Zoro couldn't have known, but he'd been told all of this and in great detail much earlier that morning post his surgery when they'd come to update him of his status; an ill-fated 'it's all the same but nothing's the same' outcome.

"Zoro…"

"Don't." The swordsmen's jaw tensed and his eyes shot to the blond. "You never treated me different before, don't start now."

Sanji's face softened. That hadn't been his intention at all, to make him feel different. No matter what, Zoro was still his equal and this did nothing to change his opinion of the marimo. It only made him worry for his partner more considerably than usual and fuck he'd been there when he'd nearly been sliced into two. Zoro's reactions to things of great trauma were very few and highly unpredictable, even to those who knew him best.

"Oi," Sanji began to defend. "No one's said anything about treating you different, Marimo."

Granted, it was really weird and an odd sensation to try and speak even more casually, the more normal the vocabulary became the more the tension around the subject began to fade. It was more comforting now than Sanji had given it credit for before in his inner turmoil. Now they were joined back on the same field of understanding, versus the worried husband and injured Marimo one they'd just been in.

"Good," the swordsmen decided, a look of determination and focus still able to dawn on his face. Whether it was forced or not, Sanji couldn't tell, but it made him feel a bit better, more than his guilty conscious would like.

"This is just a setback. I've gone through worse before." The Marimo made a slight gesture to his scar peeking out the far corner of his hospital shirt's collar. "I got through them, I'll get through this."

Sanji sighed. How was it in the heat of the moment with all the drama and worry, he'd forgotten how stubborn the man he married was. Of course, it was only an appendage that was nearly sacred to majority of the population that had one, but he could ice over the loss of it with a pep talk about his real goals and how that appendage wasn't vital to achieving them anyway. The blond shoved his jacket off himself and onto the arm of the chair before standing up and moving closer to the hospital bed, slightly annoyed already at how little time it took for Zoro to change the mood to something less serious.

But that was his coping technique, wasn't it? Or perhaps, as Sanji's over thinking mind pried into it more, this was Zoro's attempt at trying to get Sanji to cope with it, to make him feel better? Surely, in this whole mess and what he went through, a little part of him wasn't blaming himself? God, they really were idiots, weren't they, two dorks in a pod who instead of the usual blaming of each other (which would be expected taking into account how much they pride on pointing out each other's flaws) would take all the blame and responsibility before allowing the other.

"_We've_ gotten through worse before," Sanji corrected. His sleepless nights making sure this asshole was still breathing would not go unaccounted for. "But you're right and nothing's going to change. It's just a little modification."

That and he wanted to make sure Zoro knew most of all he wasn't upset with this in any way. He would still treat him the same, would still love his stupid ass – since at least that was thoroughly intact – and would be with him through this mess, since honestly it was a little both their fault something like this happened. Both could've done more to prevent it, should they really have tried. It was relieving a bit to think like that, at least for Sanji.

Zoro looked up at him and into his eyes as he approached, his face still calm and his lips drawn into a thin, concentrated line. He made an annoyed growl at the back of his throat at the 'little' modification comment.

"Oi, it was bigger than little, cook." Then he paused, with a long sigh. "What do you really think about this…?"

Sanji rolled his eyes, side hugging his Marimo around his shoulder's, a definite safe distance away from the swordsmen's surgery area. He should definitely enjoy this before Zoro's shock probably wore off and more emotional times would occur to them – but he liked the idea of being themselves and honest to heal.

"When I said I'd find a way to top, this isn't what I had in mind. But it works." He grinned, a little nervously at first, but allowed it to grow when he pulled back to see Zoro's face and see that his attempt at teasing like normally wasn't received in the wrong way.

Zoro snorted, irritably turning his face away. "Just wait, cook. I'm gonna get the biggest fucking strap on and shut you up, just watch me."

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><p><strong>Author's Note : I'm sorry I just couldn't get this idea out of my head after a friend told me about all the health risks to all these sex toys I couldn't help myself. Kill me if you must XD I tried not to make it to angsty. Granted it's an angsty type story anyway, Zoro's peens been chopped off, but I wanted them to have some sort of normalcy instead of writing just months and months of sad. sorry. sorry not sorry. I thought it was a pretty original idea. Not sure if the info in this first chapter is medically correct and what not (same with mentally Ive never experienced this myself), second chapter out I have consulted with a source though so yeah XD<strong>  
><em>This was beta'd by MyladyDay. Thank you so much<em>


	2. Chapter 2

Zoro would've thought finally going home would change things, make him feel slightly if at all better and more normal being finally free of that place, but he had been mistaken. Still being in his own skin, he felt nothing but uncomfortable. Granted, the last time he'd been in a car, it'd been when they were rushing him to the emergency room, so anything was calmer than that despite the anxiety growing in his gut that persisted on staying.

It felt so unfamiliar to someone like Zoro, who hadn't ever really had a reason to be anxious, but he wasn't a fool, he knew things were changing and nothing would be the same. Still, he couldn't dismiss the feeling of being so exposed and naked to the world, even if he was finally wearing his old clothes again and not hospital wear. His mind could only wrap around that it was from the obvious lack of something that used to be there, that his brain hadn't yet understood wasn't anymore. Who knew how much the brain constantly took track of that appendage.

Zoro wasn't sure what that meant for him in relation to his recovery however, how could his brain come to terms so quickly with a part of him missing when it had an entire lifetime of history with that part? This was so much more complicated than what Zoro wanted to sign up for – pfft like he wanted to sign up for any of this. If anything, that was the past, and Sanji could think of him very stubbornly, which he supposed he was, but now it was his goal to get past this like any other obstacle standing in his way.

Zoro, after all, had made his decision long ago, before even knowing the Cook, when he decided what he wanted to do no matter what, dangerous or not, just so long as he could become the best at what he did. If anything, looking on what little bright side there might appear to be, his now former attachment to something that had already been lost was probably just another weakness he was able to overcome.

But of course he knew that was bullshit, there was no sugarcoating this. Though that was something easier to lean towards then facing the truth, and certainly easier than constantly tensing his shoulders and body here and there when he could swear he saw the Cook steal a glance in his direction. Even if it was just for a second because he was the one driving, Zoro's eyes couldn't help but play tricks on him and assume it was more of a disapproving expression.

The swordsman wasn't a fool to depression, he knew it's game and it'd been banging at his door since the morning he woke up 'modified'. It, with its annoying and taunting whispers to his ears, urged him to accept and see another different messed up truth than what really was there. Like, for example, that Sanji was there now only out of obligation to their marriage. He couldn't have known the day they wed something like this would happen down the road. They weren't equal now, and what earthly reason would Sanji want someone as a partner like him, someone who wasn't even complete anymore and lord only knew if he could still satisfy him.

And again, the Marimo knew that wasn't the case. There was just no way and he hated to even entertain the mere thought of it. Sure, he couldn't see exactly into Sanji's mind – his skull was a little too thick even for a window seat- or to see what he was thinking, but Zoro didn't need to. He'd never had to before, why would he now? In fact, a lot of their relationship was built on not having to communicate so openly about things, because they just knew how the other would react. It was one of the defining qualities of their relationship that got them this far. This had been an isolated and freaking weird incident, but he doubted that would ever change.

Of course Zoro, being as spiritual as he was, definitely believed that and it was what was keeping depression off his front porch and in some dark stupid corner where it belonged. This was a tragedy, he got that, he understood it – hell, he lived it – and it had even happened during one of their most intimate moments alone when they symbolically became one. Be it as it may, to him that meant if one side of their yin-yang relationship was hurting, how could the other not react and feel the same sort of discomfort?

"I, uh.." Sanji began, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and breaking Zoro away from his confusing and random thoughts. There was a slight moment where their eyes met before he went back to focusing on the road. "Got some softer toilet paper for you, back home. Just in case, I didn't really know.."

The Cook's voice drifted off, since a lot of the more private things about the situation he was still in the dark about, but still he started literally the hundredth weirdest conversation that week and to Zoro that was fine. When the hell wasn't the cook talking about weird things and it could be worse, he could not be talking at all.

Even weird and stupid, he wanted to hear Sanji say it. Luckily, Zoro wouldn't literally have to start squatting on the toilet like some chick, he had some pride left to him and a way for urine release, but he could feel the opportunity for this unusual humor to break the ice for the rest of the way home, at least. He let out a huff.

"That ain't going to change anything, cook. So long as you remember to put down the damn seat from here on out." He wore a scowl of fake annoyance and shot a glance toward Sanji in time to see the beginning of a grin, which was highly addictive.

Sanji snorted, putting out his cigarette in the car's ashtray. "I can see it already. Your drunk ass is going to stumble and fall in there one of these days, isn't it?"

Zoro rolled his eyes. Just what he needed, to have something in his life forever changed and then a fear of falling into the toilet drunk added onto the list. He didn't need it to his growing list of anxieties, but it made its way there regardless. Surely, he could get something as common as that down and not have to worry about it again. Fate could at least stop being a mega douche long enough to grant him that, couldn't it?

After several more curses and teases at each other, which went very off subject but almost always landed on green hair and swirly eyebrows, it wasn't long until they were pulling into the driveway of their home. He was kind of thankful they didn't live in some usual neighborhood and had some space to themselves and away from the public, the trees in their yard blocking them from any outside world. Since of course, they hadn't been very quiet and uneventful that night things went down and he was rushed to the hospital. Noisy neighbors or not, someone would have noticed, but thankfully he was being spared of that.

Not that Zoro was self conscious or anything, just the thought of that was bullshit. He was fine. He just didn't want to be under any knowing stares right now, just wanted to be left alone and be inside his house where he could properly pig out and watch his samurai movies in peace before going right back into the normal routine of things. Now if only he could completely get rid of that feeling of not being whole still lofting about.

Sanji locked the car quickly and slid past him up the walk way to get to the front door and unlock it first. It wasn't to rush him, Zoro knew, it was actually kind of endearing, because Sanji was downright horrible at hiding when he was excited about something, this time it being his Marimo coming home and not being stuck at the hospital away from him again, even if it was only a few days. They made their way back inside together.

The Marimo wasn't sure what he was expecting, everything on the inside was pretty much the same and nothing was different, even if it felt like he was returning back from another lifetime. Or maybe it was just unsettling to think that everything else had remained the same, but it was him who had changed. He was the one that was different.

Not that Sanji was going to ever let him feel that way and the swordsman was actually pretty thankful. Zoro followed him over to the kitchen, wandering a bit and staggering a little ways back to give him space. After all, the last thing he needed in his new situation was to come off like a lost and stray puppy dog following the blond.

Sanji quickly slid behind the kitchen island, putting away some things – one of which was Zoro's new bottle of pain medications – before turning around and seeing the Marimo standing there quietly. The cook's face was blank and casual of course, but then it softened into a light grin.

"I didn't realize it was already so late, damn doctors took forever to release your ass. Are you hungry or anything?"

Zoro shook his head. He hadn't had much of an appetite lately. Still, he was stiff as he approached the back of one of the kitchen chairs and glanced around. It was crazy. Before all of this stuff had happened, being home and being able to do anything he wanted wasn't such a problem – usually he'd just grab his weights and train. Except, he couldn't do that while he was still technically healing, which left little for his motivation to push him forward.

He was fighting back depression, of course, so rolling around in their comforter and curling on their bed to sleep several sure to be awkward months of his life away sounded pretty appealing, but he wouldn't. Besides, with his luck, the cook would take it as an invite to join him and he wouldn't have an opportunity to brood at all. Damn cook had that effect, he supposed, to either keep him happy or forever annoyed. Totally the makings of a wonderful marriage.

He gave a half shrug and took a step back from the chair and glanced off at nothing in particular. It was later than it felt and the sun was running off home for the night as well, so what options did Zoro have except try and fall back into his old routine like nothing had ever changed. He wasn't a specialist in this, nor did he ever want to meet a specialist in this, but he supposed the best way to cope would be to try not changing everything too quick or drastically.

"I'm going to shower," he decided, muttering the words under his breath a bit, before heading off towards the bathroom.

He missed getting to see Sanji's expression change into a tad concerned one, but he heard him a few paces behind, following after him.

"You need any help? They taught me how to redress the bandaging-"

Zoro stopped and turned back to look at him, unable to help the slight arch his eyebrow made. He knew Sanji's intentions were sincere and that he wanted to help, all the while keeping things between them as normal as possible. And the Marimo himself really, really wanted it that way as well. So he'd make sure to at least try and keep it that way if he could help it, starting with a shower alone. It was weird to say this, considering he'd been alive more than a few years now, but he needed to familiarize himself with his own body again.

"Oi, I don't ever get to help scrub your ass, I'll be fine, I can survive a shower."

Sanji's eyebrows furrowed and there was a slight mutter of something Zoro distinctly heard as 'that can be changed'. It made him grin, and the blond spoke again. "Alright fine, I'll head to bed first. Just remember, red means hot, not the color of frostbite."

Tch, like who would make that mistake. Zoro waved him off in an attempt for minor freedom to at least make it to the bathroom, but was halted temporarily again by the Cook. The blond leaned forward, much like he did on any random other night, and brushed his lips against the Marimo's to kiss him, before heading back towards the bedroom, his tie already half way off his neck. They were so much like an old married couple, weren't they?

Zoro stood there a moment more like an idiot having gotten his first kiss. Though it was anything but that, he and the cook had kissed tons of times before, in several different places and not the standard lip lock either. But apparently, the first one after something traumatic had the same bashful and irritating effects as any first. The swordsman scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck a moment, took a deep breath and finally headed for the bath.

Where, of course, the shower was anything but felt unexpectedly anxious and bashful about that whole event too. Most of the time, he just let the water cascade down his body, his forehead right against the cold tile and his eyes closed. He wasn't sure he wanted to look down there. Of course he'd gotten glances at it and he knew what it looked like, but right now, he wasn't in the mood to look or think about it. It didn't deserve more attention than it was already getting, after all. Instead, he tried to focus on, of course - moving on - and how being home helped him.

It hadn't backfired yet, even if he was an hour in, tops. Sanji had already fallen right back into routine so of course he could, too. But as he dried himself off and redressed a certain area not to be spoken of, he couldn't help but be unable to shake the nervousness completely off. Returning to the scene of the crime, where he'd been that night with Sanji when all of this shit went down. Of course, he knew Sanji wasn't dumb enough to try anything tonight, he'd been conveniently observant and cautious about anything revolving that area, but still it made him feel a bit jumbled. Would sleeping next to him still be the same? He failed to imagine how it could be different, but also he'd spent the last while in a hospital bed in compromising positions, so rightfully he was wary while also longing for it.

When he finished drying off and opened the door to the bedroom, the lights were off and there was already a significant, cook sized, lump in the bed. Good, he could just slide in unnoticed, should things remain as easy as they appeared. He let the towel fall off from around his waist and kicked it up to use on his hair a little while he headed to their dresser. Quietly he opened his designated drawer and fished out a pair of briefs and slid them on. A little more roomy than they should've been, which had him hissing a bit into the night, but what else was new.

He shut the drawer slowly, hoping to still be ninja about this, but caught a pair of eyes watching him when he looked over to see if his silence was working. Of course, why had he ever believed for even a moment that Sanji had fallen asleep before him. If Zoro's mind was still jumbled and thinking about every possible thing, Sanji's had to be as well, there was no way around that logic to him.

Still, didn't mean he didn't feel a bit exposed under his sights, especially since he wasn't even trying to hide his direct stare. Zoro clenched his teeth, but turned towards him and moved toward the bed slowly, giving him whatever view it was he was watching.

"Pervert cook." He grabbed the comforter and threw it back, resting against the bed and sitting on it, claiming this side of it for himself whether the cook would give it or not. "Scoot."

Sanji sighed, pulling himself up enough to scoot, just like he was asked, but smirked. "What? I'm not allowed to look? The ass is still technically mine."

"The ass isn't technically yours for another few weeks." The swordsman felt the need to point out, sliding down into the bed more. "If I'm not allowed to do anything until then, neither are you." He brought the covers up to his neck and closed his eyes, a quick Marimo escape plan to dream land.

Sanji moved back under the same covers, moving his body in closer to the Marimo and letting his arm ghost over top of the swordsman. It would be cruel to shove him off, Zoro knew, because for one, he craved the closeness and he knew how relieved and happier Sanji felt with him back and in arm's reach. He came closer, placing a kiss on the back of Zoro's shoulder, before resting his head there and interlocking his hand with one of Zoro's.

Quietly, they muttered out their goodnights and Zoro allowed his body to relax. This was just day one, after all. He could do this. There was nothing totally different about him now, he was still a man - and definitely a man the cook could somehow still desire, if it weren't already proven. Or perhaps he had refined his acting skills? No, he wasn't thinking like that. And after a while of rest, he could be back on his path to being the greatest and train once more and put majority of what seems like a big deal now behind him. He was motivated and determined. He'd get over these challenges and new found things thrown at him and be a champ at them as well if he had to. The hot blond cook at his side was always a plus.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Honestly I think I'm never going to know why exactly I enjoy this story and idea so much. OTL poor zoro. Sorry not sorry...? XD<strong>

**Thank you MyLadyDay for betaing this for me, dis hoe is da best hoe.**

**UPDATE: I've marked this story complete and will come back to it randomly to update it further, probably in drabbles as ideas come to me randomly. **


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